


Every Ending Is A Beginning

by starboy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Character, trans!jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:05:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboy/pseuds/starboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, high school is the best time of your life. That's what they all say.</p><p>But for a transgender teen who's completely horrified by the thought of anyone discovering his dirty little secret, it's actually a lot harder than people let on. And when he falls for a boy who seems to be on his last limbs, it gets a hell of a lot harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Ending Is A Beginning

The large black plastic alarm clock beeped annoyingly as Jean slowly opened his eyes. His vision blurry, he tried to make out the red numbers on the clockface. 7:15.  _ Tch. _ Too early, he thought to himself, groaning as he extended his arm and promptly whacked the machine. The beeping ceased. Jean rolled over in his bed, feeling the blankets tangle inconveniently around his torso. Of course, it wasn’t inconvenient enough that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. With his alarm clock defeated, he closed his eyes again.

“Eva, come  _ on _ ! You’ve got to wake up!” called a voice from his doorway. He cracked open one eye irritatedly, glaring in the direction of the noise. A sigh was heard, followed by the flickering of lights. “Eva, we are  _ not _ going to be late on the first day.” He grunted unintelligibly in response. There was some mumbling that Jean was too tired to decipher, and he heard footsteps coming towards him.

A firm hand grabbed his covers, then proceeded to yank them off of his body. Jean was awake now. He stared daggers at his mother, who was standing over his bed. Using all the energy he could muster, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Okay? Leave me alone,” he growled. With a hint of a smile, she turned and walked through the door, leaving it open. Jean reached out with his toes and nudged it shut.

His back was killing him. He rested his hands on his ribcage, surprised to find fabric there. Fuck. He had forgotten to take off his binder to go to sleep again. Cautiously, he pressed his hands harder into his back. He heard his spine crack more times than he dared count. He grimaced. “Yikes,” he whispered to himself. Not only did that mean he was wearing it for way longer than was safe, it also meant that his mother had seen him with it on. He needed to try to find a way to explain it, in case she asked later. “Keeping them down for sports purposes” was usually a pretty safe bet to explain why he was binding. He was, after all, a gymnast, and was also known to play around on the ropes courses. He had a lot of flinging all over the place to do, and God knows what a toll that would take on his chest.

With a sigh, Jean forced himself out of bed. He would have to face the day at some point or another, as much as he hated to admit it. He could try to sleep and forget the world existed for a little bit, but he would also have to be late for school if that happened, and face the wrath of his father when he came home. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ditch.

He forced his drawers open, and threw on some clothes without really looking at them beforehand. He figured that he would probably look like trash anyway, so it didn’t really matter whether or not he put effort into it. The thing about his self hatred was that it didn’t just stop at the dysphoria. Honestly, he was so repulsed by every part of himself by this point that the breasts and the genitalia were near inconsequential anymore. Marco would tell him later that he looked ravishing that day, but Jean wouldn’t believe him had he heard it today. No, not today. He could tell that it was going to be a long one.

Skipping breakfast, he pulled his backpack over his shoulder and pushed it into the passenger seat of his car. He waved goodbye to his mother, who had called him Eva once more, and left the driveway with the name echoing in his head.  _ Eva. Eva. Eva. _

“Who the everliving  _ fuck _ is Eva?!” he said loudly when he finally reached the school gates, his voice laced with exasperation and hurt. He knew who Eva was, he  _ knew _ . That’s what hurt so badly. He could act like he didn’t recognise her all he wanted, but it didn’t matter how much he pretended. He couldn’t escape the reality. He was Eva. Or, at the very least, he was supposed to be. He knew Eva as well as he knew himself.

He grabbed the keys and flicked his wrist towards himself, exhaling for a long time.

It was the first day back to school after the end of the semester. He wasn’t ready, not at all. But it was as ready as he could ever be.

This was the end.

He took a deep breath as he stepped out of the car and moved towards the school building. He struggled to keep his head high as he walked, but managed to do it somehow anyway.

The end of Eva.


End file.
